Chapter Twenty-Six
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
When Craig had been sitting at the bar with Beth, though he had appeared to be attentive he’d been deep in thought and had come to a decision. He had no choice. He had to make her draw out all the funds she could access, then he’d disappear. With Jim still missing it was too risky to stick around. But to Craig’s shock his pondering had been interrupted by a text from a former lover. Her name was Susan Baxter. How she’d obtained his new number baffled him, and reading the message had shaken him to the core.
I know where you are and if you don’t meet me in the next thirty-minutes I’ll charge into the restaurant and expose you. Drive into Lake View Point and enter the trees directly across from the huge round boulder on the east side of the lake.
Horrified, he’d almost knocked over his drink. Telling Beth it was a promoter from Australia and he had to make a call which could take a while, he’d hastily left the restaurant. As he’d headed to his car a cold wind suddenly whipped around him. Fetching his long, black trench coat from the back seat, he pulled it on then climbed behind the wheel.
It had been a short drive to Lake View Point and he rolled as far as he could before having to leave the car and start the journey over the rocks. When he’d reached the massive round stone, he looked into the dark forest and saw a light flashing on and off. Feeling his heart begin to race, he strode forward ready to grab the woman, slam her against a tree and make her see sense. No-one got the better of him. No-one. But he was suddenly attacked from behind and felt a sudden, sharp pain in his arm.
Everything went black.
When he’d opened his eyes he’d found himself on the ground surrounded by tall pine trees with a piece of paper pinned to his coat. Hastily pulling it off, he read the frightening message.
Craig, or should I say, Scott, you stole $150,000 from Susan Baxter. You have two weeks to gather $200,000 in cash. Plenty of time for a conman like you. I’ll be back in touch with further instructions. Rest assured I’ll be watching. If you don’t do as I say you’ll find yourself in another forest tied to a tree, and you will be left to die a gruesome death.
Mortified and panic-stricken, he’d stumbled to his feet and looked around. He had no idea which direction to travel, then discovered his phone was gone. But the ground had a slope to it so seemed natural to follow it down.
It had been a treacherous walk, and several times he had tripped over fallen branches buried beneath copious leaves. When he’d spied a path he’d felt a wave of relief, but spotted a girl on a horse and big, black German Shepherd. As the dog began barking he felt a wave of terror. Not sure where to run, he started one way, then changed his mind and ran another, finally hiding behind a huge stump and fervently praying the dog wouldn’t come after him. To his relief it ran off, and he’d watched the girl trying to calm her skittish horse until a cowboy rode up to help.
Now finally starting back down the hill he felt a terrible pain in his leg. To his horror he discovered his khaki slacks had been torn and there was a nasty gash across the front of his right shin. Gritting his teeth he continued on and began limping down the lane.
As he passed a couple of ranches he considered asking for help, but his instinct told him it was a bad idea. Though he couldn’t imagine why, time and experience had taught him to trust his inner voice. A few minutes later he spied a small, lone cottage in the middle of an empty field. Pausing to study it, he saw no vehicles, and dared to hope he might find a phone inside, or at the very least water to clean his nasty wound.
By the time he’d hobbled across the field and reached the cabin he was exhausted and his leg was throbbing. To his surprise and relief the door was unlocked. Pushing it open and walking inside he found a clean, comfortable room with a small kitchenette, and to his great joy, a bathroom. Even better, there was no sign of anyone living there. No clothes in the tiny closet, or evidence of the kitchen being in use.
Limping into the bathroom, he carefully pulled back the fabric from around his wound, then gingerly cleaned it up. Though he knew he should start walking to the road he was utterly drained, and he still needed a believable story to tell Beth. Hobbling back to the couch, he flopped into the comfortable cushions and let out a heavy breath. Just the idea of making his way to the road made him groan.
Letting out a long, heavy breath, he leaned back and closed his eyes. As he tried to push the terrifying attack from his mind and think of a believable story for Beth, his conniving brain refused to cooperate. He suddenly realized the horrifying ordeal had taken its toll, and surrendering to the fatigue sweeping over him, he allowed himself to slip into sleep.
“Just for a few minutes,” he mumbled to himself. “Just a few…”